


The Tango

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [11]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Tango
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:18:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troy and Furia share an impromptu tango on an exterior balcony at the Policeman's Ball sometime following their reconsiliation</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tango

**The Tango**

There was a breeze on the night air. Furia leaned on the railing, relaxing for the first time since she left her apartment that night. The invitation to the Policeman's Ball had not been entirely unexpected, but Pierce's enthusiasm about the Saints showing up had been a bit of a surprise. The boss likely would have shown up even if her lieutenant had not been so keen on it. The personal request that accompanied the hand delivered invitation all but guaranteed it.

Even if he could not have her on his arm, Troy wanted her there. The thought made her smile as she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed at her bare arms. An extra pair of warm hands caused her to turn. Troy tucked his nose behind her ear.

"Hiding?" he whispered, planting a gentle peck behind her ear lobe.

"No. I just usually don't spend this much time in a room with that many cops."

His hands slid down her arms while his lips moved along the column of her neck to her shoulder. When he took her hand, the chief took a step and spun her so she faced him. The intensity in his eyes shocked and excited her.

"You're beautiful," he said, looming over her.

When he stepped away again, her body shifted to make up the distance. He held out his hand to her, in that very precise way she had instructed him to do so the first time they danced together. With a soft smile she took it.

"Where's your phone?" he asked.

When she proffered it, Bradshaw shook his head. "What do you want?" she asked turning toward the table as she skimmed through the handful of playlists.

His voice was warm against her skin when he all but growled the word in her ear. "Tango."

_¡Maldita sea!_

His hand slipped around her waist before the music started. As his other hand glided ethereally up her other arm, Troy placed a soft kiss to the shell of her ear. "You have been driving me insane all night," he groaned lowly as his hand moved over her shoulder and around the front of her neck. When he squeezed gently, he led her away from the table then spun her sharply.

The two prowled slightly. More space between them than either truly desired. Soon Troy pulled her back into a tight hold. She sighed at him when their bodies met. Hips and chests shifting against one another as their feet moved in the typical slow-slow-quick-quick-slow pattern of the dance.

"You've been practicing," she said as the separated.

"What can I say? I missed you," he admitted as he spun her away from him.

She stepped back toward him, turning slightly with each step. Once she was back in the hold, he pulled her against him and she rested her hand at the back of his neck. His lips were so teasingly close, his stare to solid it was almost demanding. The dance centered on passion in all its forms--moments of separation gave way to solid sensual connection which broke again. In part the dance was a battle, a struggle, as well as an ultimate cooperation.

He pulled her back again, and Furia wrapped her arms around him as her leg hooked over his hip. As the music ended, that bubble of temptation burst. His hand skimmed up her thigh, gripping it as his lips met hers. She tightened her embrace on him, as his hold on her became more claiming.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers.

Furia held his face in her hands, his hazel eyes meeting hers. "Eres el amor de mi vida. No puedo vivir sin a ti."

The growl lingered in his throat as he kissed her. "Tell me," he requested in a demanding tone.

"You are the love of my life." Her lips grazed his as she spoke. "And I can't live without you."

With a tip of his head, the scant distance closed with renewed fervor. He released her leg to cradle her head.

Their proper waltz on the parquet dance floor in the ballroom had held no trace of their connection. When his phone rang, Furia could not help but laugh. Usually it was her phone that separated them. He pecked her again before he allowed another separation.

"Bradshaw," he said coolly, though the fire in his eyes had not dissipated as he kept his eyes on her.

She tucked her phone as he offered the person on the other end of the line more than a few affirmative sounds. Furia took his hat off the table and dusted her hand across the blue fabric. Troy really did cut a striking figure in uniform, she had to admit. Most of the night she had imagined the possibility of peeling him out of it, layer by layer, like opening a present over and over and over again, until finally she got to the prize hidden beneath it all.

Dropping the phone in his pocket, Bradshaw closed on her again. His thumb traced across her cheekbone as his lips barely brushed hers. When the kiss ended, Furia handed him his hat then slid her hand around his waist as she pressed her body to his again. "Enjoy your party, Chief," she muttered before turning and walking back through the French doors.

 

 


End file.
